Titanic 2 the surface
by Angelflowers
Summary: Working Title atm. One shot of the moment when Fifth Officer Lowe rescues Rose after the ship goes down. May possibly extend into full story.
1. Chapter 1

Titanic 2 The Surface

"Hello? Is there anyone alive out there? Can anyone hear me?"

The haunting call seemed to echo over the still waters. The small boat ploughed through the mass of bodies, shifting them gently aside, the oars making a small splash as they hit the water.

Fifth Officer Lowe stared out across the vast expanse of coal black water for any sign of movement, his torch gripped tightly in one hand. The soft light revealed the stiff, frozen bodies in the water, sightless eyes staring forever heavenward. A young woman in a white lifebelt lay floating on her back, her skin a sickening blue, the baby clutched in her arms dead.

Lowe stared at the women, his eyes blinking back hot tears as he remembered the terrifying and shocking events of the past few hours. The greatest, largest and most luxurious cruise liner ever built had just sunk beneath the icy blue depths of the Atlantic Ocean and Lowe was still in shock. Where had it all gone wrong? What had happened? Lowe didn't understand.

The White Star Line chief executives had arrogantly marketed the Titanic as 'unsinkable' and a testament to mans seeming invincibility. Lowe almost snorted in disgust at their arrogance. Did they truly think that man could disregard the harsh reality of nature? That steel would truly protect them from the dangers of the freezing waters of the ocean, should Mother Nature decide man needed reminding of her power? Lowe shook his head in despair and turned back to his task.

"They're all dead sir." The young crewmember manning the tiller murmured, sorrow lacing his voice. Lowe turned to look at the boy, struggling to maintain his composure and reminded himself that he was the most senior officer here on the small craft and in order for the rescue mission to be a success, he could not show too much weakness in front of his crewmembers.

"Keep checking them, keep looking," he ordered harshly. "Move them out of the way. Don't hit them with the oars – there might be some still alive out there."

"Yes sir." The boy nodded to the rest of the boats occupants and together they begin moving bodies out of the way.

"Is there anyone alive out there?" Lowe loudly shouted the question out into the still night air, anxiously scanning the waters, hoping for an answering shout. Silence met their ears. There was no sign of movement from the mass of bodies, not even the slightest ripple. Lowe sighed dejectedly and bowed his head to hide the tears slowly descending down his cheeks. "We waited too long." He at last managed to choke out. The other occupants of the boat watched the officer silently, allowing the man to grieve in private. After a few moments Lowe lifted his head again. Turning to the boy manning the tiller he said, "Keep her steady, we'll keep looking."

The young man nodded gravely. "Sir." The others continued searching for survivors, the only sounds disturbing the night were of Lowe's calls and the gentle splash of the oars.

Suddenly a new sound rent the air, startling the boat's occupants. Lowe cocked his head to one side listening intently. There it came again! Faint at first but then louder in volume, the sound of a whistle. It seemed to be coming from the direction they had just left!

Lowe whipped his head around sharply, pointing the torch aloft. "Come about!" he yelled as the crewmembers sprang quickly into action. They rowed the little craft towards the sound, finally locating the source of the sound. Lowe's torch came upon the image of a young girl holding herself afloat on a deck chair, her long red hair clinging wetly to her forehead, one of the officer's whistles between her lips, blowing for all she was worth. The girl looked up as the light hit her, making her blink at the sudden brightness.

"My God!" One of the crewmembers looked at her in amazement. Lowe quickly moved aft and extended his hands to help her into the craft. The others moved quickly to help. "It's alright now miss, I've got you. You're safe now." Lowe murmured soothingly to the girl when she tried to speak. He gently lifted her into the boat.

"Here." The boy placed a soft woollen blanket around her shoulders. The girl smiled gratefully, her small body shaking with the cold.

"What's your name, love?" Lowe asked the girl kindly. The girl blinked confusedly for a second, then her face cleared. "Rose." She said. "Rose Dewi- I mean Dawson. Rose Dawson." She stared out over the water, her eyes drawn to a beautifully carved piece of wooden door panelling. Only a few moments ago she was led on that same door, her hand clasped in that of a young man. Rose closed her eyes, the image of the young man sinking below the surface, his body frozen eternally in the pose of holding a hand, dancing behind her closed lids, haunting her.

"Jack." She whispered to the still night. "I'll never let go. I promise. I'll never let go."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Titanic or it's characters. I am just using them for my own amusement

Chapter 2

Brock Lovett stared at the wall in his cabin morosely. It had been seven months since that fateful day when Rose Calvert nee Dawson nee DeWitt Bukater had climbed aboard the Russian research and salvage vessel _The Keldysh_ and had torn apart everything he had thought he had ever known about the legendary ship Titanic. Rose had thrown his world off kilter and he was no longer sure if he was doing the right thing.

While it was true that before, he had cared nothing for those who had survived, perished and their living descendents, Lovett had always known that what he was doing was going to be controversial. Despite public outrage he had gone ahead and secured the biggest and most well equipped boat he could find and had gone to find the diamond that had been known as "The Heart of the Ocean", against major criticism from within maritime archaeology groups and the advice of some, namely his ex-wife. He just didn't like being told what to do and was never particularly bothered by such a petty thing as _ethics._

But now his mind whirled. Questions that had been asked of him that had never seemed important, were now constantly on his mind. Was it ethical to be scavenging the ship and digging up a past best laid to rest in peace? What was his search for "La Coeur de la Mer" really going to prove? That he was an exceptional and hard working archaeologist, out to discover the true mysteries of Titanic? Or that he was nothing more than a vulture, a scavenger, only interested in money and fame?

He recalled the look on Rose's face when he had talked of the diamond. It had been a look of filled with pain. Pain and pity, like she had known that the search would yield nothing and to chase this dream would be too painful. Titanic had always been a story to him. It had never occurred to him once in the months prior to Rose's arrival that what he was doing was wrong and painful to those concerned.

But in the few minutes that Rose had begun to tell her tale, he had been hit with the painful truth. Titanic was not just a story. It had been life. People had lived and died on this magnificent ship. Tragedy had struck everyone on that fateful night in April 1912. And here was the living proof sitting not 10 feet away from him, recounting those agonizing last few hours for him. Through her retelling he had suffered along with her. He had felt her pain and it all became suddenly real. That was when the unsettling feeling had spread through him. All he could think was _am I doing the right thing?_

He sighed. This was all he had been doing lately. Thinking. And sitting in his cabin brooding over ethics. Since when had he cared about ethics? There was only the hunt for the treasures buried deep beneath the ocean in the hull of Titanic and ethics had no place in that world. Lovett knew that there were other researchers and treasure hunters eager to dive Titanic and plunder it's holds. Perhaps they would have better luck?

No. Lovett shook his head. He did not want others to come and devour the ships' secrets. He wanted those for himself. Titanic was precious and deserved to be handled delicately. She would yield only what she would allow him to. Brock now respected the great ship and those who had perished on her. Not every one had his new perspective. They seek only money and fame.

If he was truly honest with himself, each new discovery thrilled and filled him with more awe and respect every day. Each day he grew closer to understanding Titanic and unlocking her mysteries. He likened himself to Howard Carter in his race to unlock the tomb of Tutankhamen. He snorted in amusement as he imagined himself dressed as an Indiana Jones type, brandishing a bullwhip, lying in a MIR submersible as he navigated the perilous deep of the Atlantic Ocean.

"Brock?" The low voice at the door startled him. Lovett pulled himself out of his thoughts and turned to the door. Lewis Bodine, the technical whiz for the Titanic mission stood nervously at the door, his large frame filling the doorway. "Phone call for you. Seemed pretty important." Lovett nodded sharply, and turning back to the wall, resumed his staring, dismissing him instantly.

Bodine sighed and shook his head. He was used to Brock's moods now. Bodine and Lovett had been friends for years and Bodine thought he knew Lovett pretty well. They'd shared everything – from their first joint to girls and everything in between. Bodine prided himself on his knowledge and ability to know what his friend was thinking. However lately things had changed. Brock had turned more introverted and no longer participated in the banter that normally flowed freely between them. Bodine worried about his friend. It seemed that no matter what he did, he couldn't seem to pull the other man out of his self induced funk.

He stared at the other man, wondering for the third time that day how to reach his friend. "Brock?" He tried tentatively. There was no reply. "Hey, Brock? Dude? Buddy?" Brock looked up again, irritation now clouding his eyes. "What?" he snapped. Bodine raised his hands in a calm-the-hell-down kind of way and said, "Whoa, hey! Just the messenger boy here! Though I don't know why the hell Tony sent me up in here, botherin' your lazy ass." In fact Bodine knew very well why Tony the site manager had sent him up here – no-one else dared even enter Brock's office for fear of incurring his all too frequent tempers.

"Yeah? Well what the hell do you want?" Lovett said gruffly.

"I don't know what the hell's the matter with you. I ain't even gonna try knowing. Anyway, you ungrateful bastard, you gotta phone call. A pretty damn important one too, so get your ass moving. If you ain't gonna get up you know I have no problem dragging your skinny ass down there." Brock sighed and resignedly got up, knowing Bodine would make good on this threat. He walked out the door heading in the direction of Tony's office, no word of thanks to Bodine who raised an eyebrow at his attitude.

"Yeah." Bodine sniffed. "Thanks would be nice. Bastard."


End file.
